Hunting for Fairies
by wantobekate
Summary: Lady Grantham holds a ball at Downton Abbey, but Matthew and Mary hunt for fairies.  Set between episodes 5 and 6.


_This is another missing scene set between episodes 5 and 6. I realise that writing these missings scenes isn't terribly original, but I find this gap very interesting! I really do wish we had seen more of the relationship between Matthew and Mary develop. Please let me know what you think :)_

**Hunting for Fairies**

It had been a while since they had held a ball at Downton, Mary mused. Her mother didn't say, but she suspected it may have been in aid of rumours over her sullied reputation. Usually Mary glittered at a ball; she possessed a magnetism which drew people to her. Nevertheless, not many people could profess to actually liking her. This was something Mary was aware of, and even tried to cultivate.

But tonight Mary was tired. Tired of the parade of men, some eligible and some not so eligible which her mother forced her to dance with. It was no use; Mary could not see how she could learn to love any of them. The thought of years of boredom with one of these witless buffoons terrified her. Perhaps there was something wrong within herself. She often teased that she had no heart, but in the darkest of moments feared that it might be true. As she spied a spotty, gangling gentlemen walking quickly in her direction, she quickly dodged out of site. Turning around, her gaze fell on Matthew, who appeared rather trapped in a gaggle of three twittering girls. Mary felt a surge of annoyance, although she wasn't sure why this would be. She marched determinedly over to him and tapped his elbow.

"Matthew, dearest, you promised me the next dance." This was a lie, but she was taken with an overwhelming desire to extract him from the grasp of these brainless doting idiots. Good god, if Lavinia Swinefoot were to be Countess of Grantham!

"Yes . . . yes, of course," he spluttered, relief evident in his face. He took her by the hand and pulled her onto the floor.

It suddenly struck Mary that she had never danced with Matthew before. She was pleasantly surprised to find him very competent. He grasped her hand firmly and held her close; close enough that she felt secure and safe, almost. How unusual. She enjoyed the feel of his larger, warm hand encasing her own. As he spoke his soft breath tickled her neck and she shivered, feeling her heart beat a little faster.

"I thought you needed rescuing."

"Ah, I believe I did. I'm causing quite the stir. Everyone is sizing me up."

"Oh, believe me, that isn't all those girls were doing. They were measuring you for marriage material. I think you charmed them." She nodded her head towards the girls who were glaring haughtily at Mary. Mary flashed them a grin.

"I found them rather silly, if truth be told."

"Well, I'm glad we have a matching opinion on one thing at least."

Matthew's eyes pooled with her own and held her gaze. She had to stop allowing herself to flirt with him! It made her heart think strange things.

"I say," said Matthew, "why don't we head outside for some fresh air? It is rather stuffy in here."

Mary laughed; she surmised he wasn't merely talking about the temperature.

"I agree. I hate to disappoint Mama, but this is probably the dullest ball I have ever been to."

"Surely not, now you have me to argue with! You couldn't really ask for anything more."

Mary laughed again, and allowed him to lead her outdoors, into a seat overlooking the rose garden. She found herself laughing a lot in Matthew's presence. She felt easy with him. As she wasn't trying to procure him for a husband, there was no need to put on an act. The air was still rather warm and the sultry summer evening light cast a glow over their surroundings. Mary loved this part of the garden. It had a timeless feel about it, with its pink hue of roses and their sweet scent. Dare she say, it was almost romantic. Feeling a shade sentimental, which was most unlike herself, she turned to look at Matthew's profile. He really was so _nice_. It was an awful word, but he really was. He was kind, and clever, and they got on so well. His qualities seemed to shine from his eyes.

"You know, my mother used to tell me a story about roses. About the fairies who live inside them. We used to go hunting for fairies when I was little." Mary heard the note of nostalgia in his voice and not for the first time wished she had a relationship with her mother like Matthew did with his. Not that she didn't love her mother dearly. It was just that especially since the Pamuk incident, there was a sort of separation gulfing the distance between them.

"Why don't we hunt for some now?" Mary surprised even herself with this. Matthew grinned, offering her his hand. Even after helping her up, Mary noticed that he did not let go of her hand. She didn't pull away either, content to feel the warm pressure of his hand in hers. Suddenly he stopped and wheeled around, looking into her eyes. She thought he might kiss her. Even with Pamuk, Mary had not felt such a desire to kiss a man herself. Her gaze fell on his lips. Instead however, as if he had reconsidered, he smiled at her briefly, and turned around again and began looking at the roses. Mary felt a shower of disappointment. Why did he not kiss her?

In truth, Matthew was not to blame here, and he was unaware of her thoughts. He had never intended to kiss her; had only meant to turn around and point out one of his favourite roses to her. He had been caught off-guard by how close she was and his old desire to kiss her, to taste her, flared up. But he knew that Mary did not think of him like that - to kiss her would only ruin the easy camaraderie they had fallen into, and he did not want to destroy something which had become rather precious to him.

He bent down and plucked a rose.

"For you." Mary felt herself blush the same colour as the rose at the adorably bashful look on his face, and at the tender action. All was forgiven. Indeed, she felt that maybe this was even nicer than a kiss. His fingers gently brushed hers as she grasped the rose. The sentimentality of the moment wasn't lost on either of them.

"Th-thank you." Mary shivered, more from nervousness than anything else.

"It is getting cold now. Come on, I'll take you inside."

Daringly, he placed the hand on the small of her back as he led her inside. Mary felt a thrill rise through her body. For the first time she wondered if her burgeoning feelings for Matthew would lead anywhere. She noticed her parents looking at them in half curiosity, half happiness. It really was such a shame that her parents adored Matthew. That was still a strike against him.


End file.
